The Treacherous Towel
by YYG
Summary: SanZo, One-Shot. Warning: Yaoi, smutty humor, a little swearing. Zoro comes down with a cold and demands "help" from Sanji.


Me: A little delirious, slutty Zoro for you!

Disclaimer: Nothing is ours.

After the Straw Hats pirates escaped a marine base for the millionth time, their first mate came down with a minor cold. Around the time when the crew actually had time to themselves to relax, Zoro comes down with this dumb illness. Chopper wouldn't stop complaining that he needed to take it easy with his training, but his stubborn ass wouldn't listen. And now he was here, in the infirmary.

Passed the fuck out.

"Sanji-kun, you stay here and tend to Zoro. He's got a high fever, so be sure to use that towel, okay?" Nami ordered. The cook only smiled widely at her, body moving like a single wet noodle. Nami rolled her eyes as she went out onto the deck, perhaps to sit under her mikan tree and read. Sanji only then realized what he had agreed to, scowling when she was out of sight. Why the hell was he so obedient? Oh, Nami was wearing her one-size-too-small bikini. That's why.

Sanji ran his hand through his hair in frustration. No, he didn't care about the shitty swordsman one bit. Hell no, why would he? What he _did_ care about was his precious Nami-swan forcing him to look after the bastard. He couldn't deny his beautiful goddess, unfortunately, so he had no choice but to do so. Zoro lay in bed, lightly flushed, sweating, and breathing out raspy gasps. The blonde sat in a chair across from him, hundreds of emotions flowing through him. Though, mostly anger. Did it look like he wanted to play babysitter instead of tending to his lovely ladies? First of all, why couldn't Chopper do this? It was his job, wasn't it? Sighing, the cook accepted his cruel fate, leaning back into the chair and lighting his abused cigarette. The doctor can kill him later, he needed this right now.

The swordsman's breathing become shallow and slow, tiny groans escaped through his parted lips. Sanji only stared in awe at how vulnerable the moss-head appeared. Hell, he didn't even know this demon was capable of it. When Zoro began to pant, Sanji reached for the folded towel on the other's head. Damn it, it was damn near burnt black. As soon as he set it in the ice cold bucket of water, the thing started to sizzle. The blonde frowned, glancing back at the swordsman. The marimo's eyes were squinted, but no doubt open. Sanji grinned teasingly, "Well, hey there, princess. Who kissed _you_ awake?"

Zoro didn't move or speak, he only continued to stare at the blonde, panting heavily. Sanji almost felt bad for him. Imagining the immense pain he was going through. Granted, he's been embedded with lots of swords before, but sick pain was worse in his opinion. It was frustrating, confusing, and plain unbearable. The moss-head attempted to shift, but ended up twitching violently. That freaked Sanji out, thinking the swordsman just had some sort of stroke. He dropped the towel and leaned over the other, lifting his right eye lid. The dark golden pupil darted to Sanji's worried face instantly, drawing a breath of relief from the cook. The last thing he needed was to be blamed for Zoro's unconscious state.

The blonde let the eye lid fall and droop, returning to the towel. Why did he get so worked up suddenly? His heart felt like it broke at the over dramatic sight. "Shitty marimo," Sanji muttered aloud. He felt Zoro's eyes on him, which was extremely creepy. If he wasn't sick, Sanji would have snapped already. The towel now filled with fresh, cold water, the cook placed it carefully on top of Zoro's forehead. He wasn't as hot as he was earlier, so the fever must have been fading. The moss-head's breathing remained uneven as he watched the blonde inhale, so carefree, filling the air around them with smoke. The way his lips formed an O shape mesmerized the swordsman. They were just so kissable, so pink and perfect.

"...SSanji," he found himself saying breathlessly. Said man raised a spiraled eyebrow at him, but kept quiet. Zoro was, after all, doped up on the medicine Chopper gave him. He guessed this kind of behavior was normal. Zoro, however, did not like being ignored. "_Sanji_," he whined. This peaked the cook's interest. Zoro whined his name, something that he will forever deny he loved at the moment.

"What is it, marimo?" he asked flatly, finishing his cigarette in one inhale. The swordsman stared intensely at the movement, watching as the lips went through the same motion again. He wanted to touch them. He _had _to, or he might go crazy. His headache, aching muscles; they were nothing compared to the pain from just _watching_ instead of _feeling_.

"S-Sanji!" He whimpered. No other words came to mind. He was only hell-bent on the shit-cook to come up with a full sentence. The blonde put out his cigarette irritably and stood up to stand by Zoro's bedside. As the cook approached, the swordsman's heart sped up, which only jump started his f ever. Sanji removed the towel far enough to press his hand against the other's forehead, which seemed to be getting hotter. How was this possible? He pulled back hesitantly, dipping the cloth into the bucket once again. "Ssanji," Zoro groaned.

"Yeah, yeah. You'll get the towel in a minute, moss-head."

"You...you're so...h-hot," the swordsman managed, causing the bucket to spill. Sanji's eyes widened. A slip of the tongue, right? He meant _it_ was hot, right?! Zoro suddenly moaned heavily, wiggling under the blanket. Sanji didn't know how to go about this. What was he suppose to do, ignore him? Yes, ignoring seemed like the right thing to do. retrieving the bucket, he set it down on the counter and gave Zoro the towel again.

"S-Sanji! H-help me," the marimo whimpered pitifully.

"With what?" the blonde cursed at himself for answering. It was like denying Nami-swan or Robin-chwan something, he just couldn't do it. The tone of voice Zoro spoke in, it was tantalizing to listen to. He was begging, but for what Sanji didn't know. "The pain. M-make it go 'way," Zoro stated. The cook felt bad that he couldn't really help with that. Maybe Chopper would know what to do. He strolled over to the door, when a loud moan stopped him in his tracks. Why did he sound so erotic in his moments of pain?

"D-don't _go_! _Sanji_, help me!"

"I'm getting Chopper," the blonde choked out. His heart fluttered at the sheer sound of Zoro so desperate.

"N-no! You...I-I want you!" Those simple words drove Sanji up the wall. There were now two possibilities: fetch Chopper, or stay at the risk of getting a raging hard-on. It couldn't hurt to try and sooth the marimo's pain, right? Closing the infirmary's door, the blonde went back to the other's side, noticing how his flushed cheeks became redder. Zoro was whining, panting, and his body struggled to do something by the looks of it. Oh, the swordsman was trying to sit up. Sanji lifted the sick marimo into a more comfortable position, but Zoro apparently had other plans. As soon as the swordsman's back was off of the mattress, he lunged for the cook, knocking them both down onto the floor. Surprised, Sanji could only watch in shock as Zoro straddled him. With his hands pressed against Sanji's chest, the marimo moaned shamelessly as he rocked his hips against the other's. The cook grunted at the forced friction, staring into Zoro's clouded eyes. Something obviously wasn't right, but the blonde couldn't process any intelligent thoughts at the time.

"Saaanji," the marimo moaned, leaning down to said blonde's ear. He arched his back, pressing his stomach against the cook's chest, and doing his best to get closer to Sanji. Zoro looked damn near beautiful like this, practically begging for him. But a small part of his mind was telling him that this wasn't Zoro, it was the fever talking and acting.

"_Saanji_, I need you, nngh. Make it go away, please!" Zoro moaned. Something hard poking Sanji in the stomach clarified his assumption. The swordsman really wanted that after all? Should he even dare and try with him? What if Zoro hated him when his fever died down?

"You're sick," Sanji found himself claiming, "You don't know what you're saying." This only made Zoro whine and grind his ass onto the chef's crotch roughly, drawing a moan from both of them. _Fuck it_, Sanji thought. He couldn't keep going back and forth with this situation at hand. Using his leg strength, the blonde flipped them over, pinning Zoro's wrists above his head with one hand. This earned him a loud moan and some impatient thrashes, but Sanji paid it no mind. He dove in for the tanned neck fully exposed, licking and harshly biting the skin before pulling the marimo's shirt off. Zoro's hands ran down the cook's back, sending a jolt of uncomfortable shivers through his skin. He couldn't get anything done if the swordsman kept doing that. Before peeling his own shirt off, Sanji caught ahold of the other's wandering hands, using his tied to bound them together. A long whine of disappointment came from Zoro, expression full of lust and urges. Sanji smirked against the other's collar as he trailed further down the withering, bucking body.

Once Sanji arrived at his pants, he let his breath ghost over the slim hips bones before even daring to take the rest of the clothes off. Zoro's sweating increased, as did his heavy panting, With his arms above his head, he couldn't touch Sanji like he craved to, which only made the pain worse. And with the cook teasing so much, the swordsman felt like this might be the end of his life. Finally, after repeatedly licking designs over the end of Zoro's scar, the pants came off in a single movement. The front of the marimo's light green boxers were soaked with pre-cum, his member twitching with anticipation. The blonde chuckled, making Zoro whimper at the dark sound. "Why, Zoro," Sanji teased, "you came already?"

"N-no," the swordsman panted, "'cause someone keeps f-fucking with m-me!"

"Hm, well, I don't like the tone of your voice," Sanji stated, rubbing Zoro's clothed cock with his fingertips, "So I don't think I should continue." The unexpected, jerking body movement snapped Sanji out of his teasing mode, and he suddenly became very hyper aware of his own problem. The boxers were off in the blink of an eye, but Zoro's small protest stopped him from doing anything else. "W-wait, go slow," he gasped. Sanji smirked, not feeling the least bit generous today. Who knew he could be such a sadistic bastard? He swallow Zoro in one go, easing in slowly when he felt it at the back of his throat. Zoro's loud cry echoed throughout the room as his back almost snapped in two. Sanji stood up from the floor and cursed. The marimo was too loud; anyone could walk in and ask what was happening. So, the blonde did four things while he was up; he smirked at the hard swordsman below him and commanded, "Don't move," he made sure the door was locked (which it was; good going Sanji's perverted hunches), he took notice of the lubrication Chopper had in the medical cabinet earlier and retrieved it, and finally, he crammed Zoro's fever towel into the other's drooling mouth. There was still some liquid inside of it, causing an alluring stream of saliva and water to drip down the marimo's chin.

Sanji knelt down to kiss the swordsman, who gladly obliged by opening his mouth welcomingly. The cook didn't care why Zoro chose to act like this right now, he was only hell bent on drawing out more sounds. He sucked and nipped at Zoro's tongue before pulling away, making the moss-head groan in anger. Before the swordsman could look, Sanji had already taking him inside his mouth again. The immense burning made him yelp involuntarily, bucking his hips upward. The blonde had enough common sense to hold him down while he toyed with him. The marimo's words of "Go slow" replayed in his head as he sucked and hummed ruthlessly. Within a second, Zoro's back was lifted off of the ground, along with a gurgled cry, and something warm trickled down the chef's throat. He didn't want to make a mess, so he automatically drank every last drop until it ceased. Suddenly, the cook heard a light knock on the door.

"Sanji, is everything okay in there?"

_SHIT._

"Everything's fine, Chopper," the blonde stated, carrying Zoro onto the bed. He untied his arms and they fell limp and his sides. The only reason he was so calm was because he was still riding out his orgasm. The cook opened the door for the small reindeer, only to be scolded as soon as Chopper laid eyes on the swordsman.

"What? What's the matter? He's perfectly-" It was then that the blonde forgot one thing.

The damn towel was still lodged in Zoro's mouth.

Chopper rushed over to the marimo and pulled the object out with little effort. As it slid out, Zoro made no sign that he was still conscious. Sanji cursed under his breath. The fucking bastard used him and he got nothing out of it! He was still hard as a concrete, and hiding it from Chopper would prove to be difficult. He heard the reindeer mutter "I knew I smelt frantic sweating" before cleaning the towel and placing it back on Zoro's head. With a small nod of approval at his work, Chopper realized that the swordsman's shirt was carelessly discarded across the room. Confused, he glanced up at the cook, "Why's his shirt off?"

"He was too hot, so he asked me to take it off," the cook explained.

"Why do you look so flustered and messy?"

"'Cause taking care of the moss-head's hard work! How would you look if you had to cater to his every whim?"

"Why's your tie crumpled up over there?"

"It got too hot for me, too, so I took it off and set it down."

"...Why is my lubrication out?"

_Oh, fuck it_.

"Chopper, I almost raped Zoro."

"..._WHAT?"_

Me: I wanted humor, but it turned into smutty humor T-T

Mid: Review!


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